Please Don't
by Texanlady
Summary: Eric ponders his choice to use Sookie as bait for Edgington. My reaction to True Blood episode 3x11 FRESH BLOOD.


Please Don't Look At Me That Way

_Please don't look at me that way._

He couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand the look in her eyes. The terror. The desperation and outright plea in her gaze, the plea for his help and mercy. Sookie's eyes shone brightly with her fear, her waning hope, and her overwhelming sense of betrayal at his actions, and Eric could feel something deep inside him breaking. Sookie's eyes were _breaking_ something fundamental in his core, and he knew that even if he survived this, he would never forget the sight of Sookie's eyes staring up at him so beseechingly. So filled with desperate hope that he was not going to hurt her, that he cared enough about her to not sacrifice her to save himself. Her eyes had always been confident, bold, daring, _challenging_, when they were upon him. Perhaps a bit wary or apprehensive from time to time, but _never_ terrified. Never had she looked at him like she was now, and the sight of her eyes staring into his own now filled with doubt, fear, horror, and desperation was like liquid fire. Liquid fire washing over him in burning waves and he was sure he knew now what it felt like to burn alive.

As he stared into Sookie's eyes, Eric realized he was a fool. A complete and utter fool. He should have told her of the plan. He should have trusted that she could hold true and see this task done with him. He should have trusted that she would have the courage, skill, and determination to make a stand with him. He was a fool not to trust her, and he cursed himself as he saw the small amount of faith she had in him die in her eyes. Even if his plan worked, even if everything went off without a hitch leaving Russell nothing more than a pile of ash while he and Sookie were both left standing, he had annihilated the small amount of affection and trust Sookie held for him with his actions now.

Once he had come up with this plan, he had made the decision not to include Sookie on it. His reasoning had been that if Russell suspected for even a second that things were not as they seemed, he was likely to kill him, his child and Bill—and take Sookie regardless. So he needed Sookie's terror to be real. Russell had to believe that Sookie thought it was the end for her. So he had not told her of his true intentions. He'd played his part well so that she would act how she was supposed to act so he could lead Russell into a false sense of security.

He could remember vividly the feelings he'd experienced walking back into his office after coming up with his plan. He'd had a cold, hard, unrelenting knot in his stomach as he'd opened that door and seen Sookie jump to her feet. He'd seen the fiery sparks of her spirit bright in her eyes as she'd chastised him for locking her in his office, and he'd nearly turned right back around to tell Pam they were going to have to find another way. It had taken her nearly an hour to talk him into using Sookie, and, in the end, he had only relented because the plan would guarantee Sookie's survival and freedom if not his own. So with the plan in mind, he'd made the crucial, and what he now knew to be final, mistake of not informing Sookie of how he intended to defeat Russell. It had taken all of his control, all of his centuries' worth of discipline, to force himself to do what he'd done next.

Taking her over his shoulder, carrying her to the basement, _chaining_ her had literally been one of the hardest things he'd ever done. Above all else about Sookie Stackhouse, above her long legs, her ample breasts, her intoxicating scent, all of it, it was her _spirit_ he'd admired most. Like recognizing like, one might say. So chaining her had literally wounded him. Ate at him until he felt like every particle of his being was in pain from the knowledge he was tossing away his chances at having her for his own one day.

_Please don't look at me that way._

When she'd said she shouldn't have trusted him, he'd replied, "You're right. You shouldn't have." She shouldn't have trusted him because he didn't trust himself around her. He didn't know who he was around her anymore. She affected him that deeply. Sookie Stackhouse had awakened something in him. She was _changing_ him. He didn't know how to feel about that, but the truth was that he'd come up with the plan he had to ensure _her_ survival. He had a 50/50 chance of making it out of this alive, and it hinged entirely upon everything going perfectly. Sookie? Sookie _would_ survive. He'd made sure of it. He'd have to trust that if he met the true death this morning, Compton would be able to protect Sookie from the Queen if the stubborn telepath refused the aids he'd left behind for her. He'd already left instructions for Pam to give Sookie the letter he'd written her previously. In it was his apology for frightening her this morning, not telling her of his true plan, and his suggestions as to how she could escape the queen and stay safe from other vampires that would want her for her skill.

His letter held the truth of his feelings for her. He'd written plainly that he wasn't entirely sure what she made him feel, but that he'd never desired anything the way he'd desired her, and that he truly wished he'd been able to prove to her that he could have been worthy of her affections. He had explained why he'd felt he had to do what he did, and he'd apologized for putting her in jeopardy. He'd written in explicit detail how much he'd admired her courage, her convictions, the strength of her heart and spirit, and told her he wished he'd gotten to know her better as no human had ever fascinated him even a fraction as much as she did. The letter closed with a detailed description of all he knew of Bill and his deal with the Queen. He'd also included a check for $500,000 for Sookie with the strong suggestion that she run if Bill didn't fess up to his mission as soon as Russell was dealt with. The Queen was no laughing matter, and with Edgington and him both gone, running would pretty much be her only option as Bill would be no protection against Sophie-Anne. He'd explained that he'd left instructions for Pam to help her disappear if Sookie should decide to do so. He could only hope she heeded his advice once he was gone. While he hoped it would not be needed, the letter was in his desk, ready for Pam to deliver to Sookie should things not turn out well for him. For there was the crutch of his plan. _Everything_ hinged on Sookie. His survival depended on her deciding to save his life.

What small part of him that still believed in the beyond, still hoped that there was something beyond this world, hoped that despite the trust and affection he'd single handedly destroyed between them with his foolish decision not to inform her of his plan, Sookie would take mercy on him and save him as well. If she didn't? Well that was fine too. He'd die taking out his greatest enemy, he'd get to rejoin his Maker, he'd made the necessary arrangements to provide for Pam when he was gone, and with his death, he would be saving Sookie from a fate worse than death. All in all, it would be a win either way.

So as he stared down at Sookie now, answering the unspoken plea in her gaze with his own determined one, he tried to convey to her that this was _not_ her end. His perhaps, but _not_ hers. She would not be drained this morning, and she would _not_ end up Russell Edgington's pet faery. His eyes tried to convey the truth to her in these precious seconds he had her attention solely on him. He tried to show her his real feelings without tipping his hand to Russell … but his hope was in vain.

_Please don't look at me that way._

As Sookie stared up at him with the most heartbroken expression in her eyes, her spirit breaking before him as she thought he was betraying her to save his own skin, her hope dying as she falsely believed she was either about to be killed in cold blood or made a pet to an insane vampire, he cursed himself for not trusting her. He cursed himself for hurting her. For not _believing_ in her.

The backs of his fingers lightly caressed her face. He marveled at the softness of her skin, and again lamented the fact he'd never know what it was to make love to her. He'd never know what it was like to slide into her welcoming heat as she held onto him desperately. He'd never get to hear her soft moans and cries in his ear as he rocked into her. First slow, then with a speed that only vampires could achieve, and finally with a rhythm and skill that was all Eric Northman. He'd never get to trail his skilled fingers over her sun-kissed skin. Never get to worship her magnificent breasts as they deserved to be worshipped. He'd never get to see her face light up beneath him as he took her to the heavens, showed her pleasure the likes of which she'd never known. He'd never get to hear her tell him she loved him as he'd been forced to hear her declare to Bill so many times.

No. Even if he lived through this, he'd thrown his chances at these opportunities away with his decision to continue relying only on himself to survive. He'd destroyed the hope that he could somehow have Sookie for his own by manipulating her into this position to save them all without consulting her. Here, now, as he stroked her cheek with more gentleness than he thought he was capable of, he realized one way or another this was goodbye.

Goodbye to his chance to prove to Sookie he was so much more than she thought he was. Goodbye to his chance to help her realize what a manipulative coward Compton really was. Goodbye to his chance to help her get over her inevitable heartbreak when she realized the lies her relationship with Bill was built on. Goodbye to his chance to prove to Sookie she could turn to him when she was in danger, turn to him when she was in _need_. Goodbye to his chance to find out what it was to bask in her attentions and affections. Goodbye to it all.

Here, now, this morning when a millennia old promise of vengeance to his dying father would be fulfilled, Eric Northman realized he had made the biggest mistake of his undead existence. He had miscalculated and misjudged. He'd doubted Sookie's ability to do what she needed to do to see them both through this because she was human. He'd allowed his long held prejudices against humans to blind him to the truth that Sookie Stackhouse was stronger than anyone gave her credit for, and because of that he had destroyed his chances of knowing the bliss to be found in her arms if he did manage to survive this. Truly, he was a fool. A complete and utter fool.

Godric had been right. Vampires and humans could live together as equals. For he certainly could have lived with Sookie Stackhouse. Could have woken in his lair with her in his arms each night. Could have tried monogamy for the first time if it would keep her there. Could have listened to her every opinion and idea if it meant she would never stop talking to him. Yes, they could have been equals had he not been such a fool.

_Please don't look at me that way._

Sudden movement at his side brought Eric's sorrowful thoughts to a close, and he felt pain soar through his undead heart as Russell's impatience got the best of him. Eric nearly lost all control as he watched his enemy viciously tear into Sookie's wrist. As his little telepathic faery cried out in horror and pain, the rawness of her emotions beating at him through their tenuous bond, Eric forced himself not to ruin all his plans by throwing Edgington away from her. Instead, he closed his eyes, prayed to Godric for aid, and leaned down slowly. He licked gently at Sookie's neck to try and soothe her before biting into her with only regret in his heart.

As soon as the taste of her exploded across his tongue he wanted to take her in his arms and rock her gently. A desire he'd only experienced once in a thousand years. Sookie was exquisite. He'd never tasted anything like her before, and the fact he was tasting her like this tore at him. Literally. He could feel his mind, his logic, pushing him in one direction while his heart pulled him in another. The man in him, the man that had sunk to his knees and cried before his Maker, begged Godric not to leave him, now screamed for him to stop hurting the woman that reminded him what it was like to hope. To want. To wish. _To dream_.

His fingers brushed softly through her hair. Trying desperately to comfort her, to reassure her that he would not allow this to be the end for her. He was a thousand years old. He had lived long enough, and would not bemoan his fate if he met his true death this day … but not her. _She could not die_. Not now. Not yet. She had known so little of life. Seen so little. He had desperately wanted to be the one to show her the wonders of the world, to show her the secrets few humans ever learned, but it would be enough for him to know she would live on. He could take his vengeance and meet the sun with open arms as long as he knew Sookie would be ok. He could meet the true death peacefully knowing this girl that had such life in her, this girl that had made him realize how lonely, boring, and desolate his life had been, would go on and continue to shine so brightly she made the stars jealous.

Stroking her hair as he forced himself to feed on the woman he owed more than he could repay, Eric thought, '_Please don't look at me that way._'


End file.
